


Teach Me

by AdrenalineRevolver



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Brief mention of Courf and Enjolras, Dominant Combeferre, If cravat handcuffs and rules count, Kink Discovery, Kink Negotiation but like with murder, Light BDSM, M/M, Mistress, Montparnasse didn't realize he had a thing for nerds but here we are, Smart Is The New Sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 18:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17329994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrenalineRevolver/pseuds/AdrenalineRevolver
Summary: Montparnasse was a man of many vices, why deny himself something when the world would do that for him?





	Teach Me

Montparnasse wasn’t one to deny himself anything. Even if he didn’t exactly understand why he wanted it. 

He had been perusing the crowd for easy targets as the students spewed their idyllic nonsense when something caught his ear. One of the students was just going on and on about facts and figures. He spoke with a confidence that told Montparnasse that he had to be correct.

Why wasn’t it infuriatingly boring? The topic was of course. Montparnasse had no care for the numbers or what they were meant to convey. He did however want the man to keep talking. It was strange. 

Montparnasse wondered what else this man knew about. He looked like the stereotypical scholarly type yet young. What would those glasses look like when askew? At what point would he no longer be able to speak? The assassin was surprised with himself but he didn’t stop entertaining these fantasies, why should he? 

He spoke of equality and good will towards men, ridiculous things that children believe in along with fairytales. It didn’t put Montparnasse off the way he expected, instead he was almost curious as to how someone who seemed so smart could believe that other people deserved such kindness. 

As their little demonstration began to wind down the object of his attention approached him. 

“Citizen,” He greeted with a smile as he adjusted his glasses. Montparnasse quite liked that. “I noticed that you seemed interested.”

Montparnasse was well aware that he was referring to their little rebel games. “That I was, though I fear that without a proper education I was unable to follow you with the understanding that you deserved. My apologies.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Lack of access is no personal fault. If you have the time to walk with me I will explain.” He offers his arm.

“A scholar and a gentleman.” Montparnasse takes the man’s arm while suppressing a grin. 

“I am Combeferre, what might your name be?” Combeferre doesn’t seem to notice one of his two compatriots staring at them with wide, excited, eyes. The blonde one seems completely oblivious.

Montparnasse realizes that the beloved infamy surrounding his name might be a hindrance here. “I have no surname, however Raphaël is the name I was given. Though on occasion I’ve been called Ange.” Sacrilege is always fun.  
Combeferre smiles at the thief as they continue on. “Both are lovely. Now, where should I begin with my explanations?”

He would be lying if he said he learned nothing. Even if the man himself was a distraction, Combeferre was a skilled teacher. He also proved to be an unbiased student; Montparnasse found this out when the topic turned to medicine. 

“Such bleeding can be stopped with a pipe and any stray metal if needed.” He interjected.

“A pipe?” Combeferre seemed deeply interested.

“Well a candle would be ideal however if one is bleeding badly enough to require cauterization the source of heat scarcely matters.” Babet knew better than to use it on him but had taught him how to implement it on others.

“The pain must be incredible. What other methods are used due to lack of access to hospitals?” He was so very concerned.

“Well most sedative people are able to get access to is alcohol. If one were to be shot you might have to have a friend simply reach in with their hand to remove the bullet. It all depends on whom you know personally and what you know. A young woman who knows how to make a tonic to rid herself of pregnancy is in a substantially better position than others, until she accidentally poisons herself of course.” Montparnasse glances over to see that he’s even more worried, bless him.

“Is that common?” Judging by his tone he already suspected the answer. 

“As the other option is to possibly die, become poorer, and raise a child on your own I’d say every prostitute has attempted it as have most unmarried girls with a child. The sad irony is the same bourgeoisie men who condemn them for it want them as an easy time without having to worry about a child. Do they really think their mistresses keep rue around because they like the flowers? Does yours?” 

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t have one.” Combeferre’s cheeks were a light pink.

“Too busy with your studies?” Montparnasse grins. “I understand. I’ve had quite a few offers however I’ve turned the ladies down.”

“Why turn them down?” Combeferre had the familiar markings of someone trying to appear more disinterested than they were.

“Women hold no interest for me.” He gripped Combeferre’s arm tightly to make himself clear. 

“O-Oh.” He went from a pink to red. Montparnasse had him.  
“I hope that isn’t any trouble. It’s not the sort of thing I would typically make so plain however I feel safe with you.” Montparnasse put on a nervous act to reel him in further. 

“It’s no trouble at all. You’re um,” For once Combeferre seems to be tripping over his words. “You’re with like-minded company.” The man carefully put his free hand on Montparnasse’s to try and comfort what he thought was a nervous new friend.

Montparnasse wanted to drag him down into the alley that instant. “That’s such a relief.” He leans against Combeferre for a moment to provide just a touch of temptation. “So, what was that you were saying about class inequalities beginning with disparities of care at birth?” He tells himself he was working him up and backing off to keep things interesting but really he just wants to hear the man ramble about something again.

Combeferre spoke about care inequality, moths, politics in distant countries, the inner workings of the human body, and the stars. Montparnasse felt like he was being teased mercilessly, he actually had a pang of nerves when they arrived at Combeferre’s flat. 

“Would you like to come in for tea?” Combeferre offered.

“I would love to.” He followed him in at an easy pace. 

Montparnasse did his best to keep up the appearance of control and allow Combeferre to play himself back into his hands however over tea he just kept talking. Medical theories, historical events, and physics that Montparnasse had no chance of ever understanding, it got to be too much. 

Montparnasse grabbed him by his cravat and pulled him into a harsh kiss while he was talking about something he had read recently. Much to his pleasure Combeferre’s hands made their way to his hair right away. He would kill most men for such a sin but all he could do was moan as Combeferre tugged on it and ruined his carefully planned look. 

It would seem that Montparnasse’s teasing had worked Combeferre up into a similar state as he was quickly backed up to the bed. His desperation felt far less shameful if he wasn’t the only one feeling it. 

“Lay on the bed. With your arms up.” He was ordered. 

A shiver went up Montparnasse’s spine. This was far from what he had fantasized about. He thinks he liked this more.

Montparnasse obeyed him and lay on his back. He had to actually remind himself to look alluring rather than simply get lost in his excitement. Combeferre didn’t seem to notice when he crawled on top of him and tore his cravat off to tie Montparnasse to the bed. 

“Is that tight enough without being too tight?” Even like this the man was worried about hurting someone.

“It’s perfect.” Montparnasse breathes.

“Good.” Combeferre trails a finger under his chin. “Now, was this the real goal of your lessons, ‘Ange’?”

“Yes sir.” He’s not sure where the ‘sir’ came from.

“How interesting that the terrifying Montparnasse would want this from me?” His smile was outright devilish. 

If Montparnasse wasn’t struck with fear he would be enamored with how brilliant the man was. What could have tipped him off? Had he known all along? Was Montparnasse going to be killed here?

“Don’t be afraid.” He spoke like one would speak to a cowering rabbit rather than an assassin. “I knew who you were when I saw you in the crowd.”

“Then why..?” Combeferre had just walked up to him. He hadn’t seemed afraid for a moment.

“I wanted to get you away from the crowd so you couldn’t hurt anyone. Imagine my surprise when the dreaded dandy of the sepulchre wanted to be the teacher’s prized pupil.” He ran his thumb along Montparnasse’s bottom lip. “Originally I had planned to distract you for moments. Perhaps you could do with a more permanent distraction from your vices.”

“P-Permanent?” The gentle touch couldn’t quite push away the finality of the word ‘permanent’. He hated this game. He wished Combeferre would just speak plainly. If he were going to be held captive or tortured for the things he’s done he would like to know. 

“Permanent.” Combeferre repeats as he leans away. “You will do as I ask and in exchange you will be kept. I doubt I can offer you the luxury and idleness you desire but I suspect I have something more you want.”

Montparnasse stares at him bewildered before a laugh slips through his lips. He knows he’s in no position to do so but he can’t help it. “Let me get this clear. You know exactly who I am and what I do, yet when you have me at your mercy you want to make a mistress of me?”

“I know if I let you leave without motivation to behave I will be doing all of Paris a disservice.” His voice was calm but hearing him say ‘behave’ made Montparnasse’s head swim. 

“I wouldn’t say all of Paris. There are some that quite deserve what I have in store for them.” Montparnasse had no intention of living on a student’s measly wallet alone.

“You’re more a Reynard the Fox than a Robin Hood.” He raised an eyebrow as if he was interested to see where this was going. 

“Perhaps I could be. You’re a good man with quite many dangerous enemies. I’m no such thing and am quite knowledgeable in how to dispose of enemies.” He fought back his nerves when Combeferre began to laugh. 

“You and I both know your goal would be their wallets and not preventing their political moves. Although,” He pauses and Montparnasse can practically see an idea click into place. “Having someone willing to steal information from spies and that person having no qualms about making the job appear like a usual break-in would help us operate in a more public manner.”

“I could also steal supplies. Surely a revolt needs carbines.” He offered. When Combeferre looked a touch surprised he quickly tried to explain himself. “I may not have the utmost interest in revolution but I have an interest in the continued survival of a revolutionary.” Montparnasse felt his face get hot and Combeferre grinned from above him. 

“You will only take out that blade of yours to defend yourself.” Combeferre kisses his collarbone. “You won’t target the poor.” He trails his lips further up Montparnasse’s neck. “You will also seek an education.”

Montparnasse outright groaned at that. 

“I won’t watch potential be squandered, even if it’s of your own volition.” Combeferre stopped himself just centimeters from Montparnasse’s lips. “Do we have an understanding?”

He knew that Combeferre would most likely let him back out if he really had second thoughts however Montparnasse forced himself to truly consider it. He wouldn’t have to work as often. He could listen to him speak daily. He could have this every night. If Montparnasse were careful he could even maintain his reputation. 

“Kiss me.” He begged.

“Do you agree?” Combeferre clarified.

“Yes. Yes. Pl-“ He couldn’t get out anything more before Combeferre practically crashed their lips together. 

Combeferre’s hands were back in his hair again and his lips made their way to his neck. “Don’t hold back. Let me know when I make you feel good.” He bit down hard enough to leave a mark and Montparnasse moaned. 

The sheer audacity of this man. Ruining his hair, marking his perfect skin. Montparnasse wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that Combeferre absolutely knew what he was doing or how much Montparnasse was enjoying being taken apart. 

Combeferre undoes every button on Montparnasse’s coat with carefulness that Montparnasse isn’t sure if he ‘s thankful for or makes him want to scream. He just wants it off by this point. He can sew the damned buttons back on. 

“Get on with it.” He does his best to sound somewhat in control.

“Well who knows what you went through to acquire this? Wouldn’t want that to go to waste.” Combeferre mercifully picks up the pace even as he teases. He makes short work of the waistcoat but pauses at what he finds underneath. Montparnasse suspects it’s the blue flowers on the corset that surprised him more than the presence of it itself. 

He decides to use it to his advantage. “Have me in your bed yet a woman’s underwear is surprising?” Montparnasse can feel the hand on his waist through the thick fabric. He can also see a touch of concern hidden under the lust in Combeferre’s eyes. “I could truly scandalize you.”

“The lacing is too tight.” Combeferre reaches around him and undoes the corset based on feeling. When he pulls it off Montparnasse’s shirt is pushed up to his chest. Combeferre traces his fingers down the deep red lines left on Montparnasse before kissing them. “You needn’t be so harsh with yourself.”

Montparnasse feels his face heat up as he blinks at the man above him. “Oh Christ you’re always like this.” This man had seen him in a woman’s corset and was worried about him being in pain. Being on the receiving end of such concern was more flustering than any foreplay and he had half a mind to accuse the man of knowing that. “When you finally fuck me you’ll probably stop constantly to check on me.”

“Well it would be best to-“

Montparnasse interrupts him with a drawn out groan. “Doctors.”

Combeferre caught his lips again before undoing his trousers and pulling them off along with his shoes. He didn’t show them the same care as the coat but Montparnasse really couldn’t bring himself to care.. “Well how else would I know how to make you fall to pieces?” He grinned when that seemed to knock Montparnasse down a peg. “Tell me, do you even know why it is you want this so badly? Perhaps you may know your way around the more salacious parts of life but do you know what makes this set you on fire?” 

“Tell me.” He tries his best not to sound as if he’s begging. 

He grinned before falling into a lecture. He spoke of nerves winding their way to the spine and up to the brain. Combeferre also explained just what would make what he intended to do to him feel amazing. Montparnasse was well aware that if you crooked your fingers a certain way it would have pleasant results but there was something about being told why with such confidence that made him a moaning wreck in response to just the preparation.

He explained that as well. It was even less necessary but Montparnasse could hardly fault him for it. 

Montparnasse was no blushing virgin, he had slept with plenty of men and fallen into bed with Eponine on multiple occasions, however he found himself bereft of his usual repartee the more Combeferre touched him. Most other liaisons left Montparnasse searching for more as he was simply an object to be used but between how closely he was being held and the Best Worst thing he could see why some thought sex to be a thing of intimacy and not just pleasure. 

The best and worst thing was the eye contact. Not once had Montparnasse had to deal with that. The men he had been with were either too ashamed of their own desires or pretending he was a woman and Eponine was pretending he was someone else just as he was pretending she was something else. Yet Combeferre was insistent on it. Even when Montparnasse persuaded, rather begged, him to be rougher with him it remained. He was as intense in his pleasures as he was in his discussions it would seem. 

His eyes were the last thing he saw before his back arched off the bed and consciousness failed him for a few moments. La petite mort, the little death, so elusive a treat that Montparnasse had almost forgotten it was possible. 

Lips were claiming his own when he woke. If he could even think straight he would fancy himself the most debased sleeping beauty there ever was. It was only when Combeferre tensed and moaned that Montparnasse regretted not having the freedom of his hands, he wanted to somehow pull him closer. He settled for lazily wrapping his legs around him.

Just when Montparnasse was convinced this man was as good as they come he reached behind Montparnasse and freed his hands before lying beside him rather than simply collapsing on top of him. Call him easy, but were Montparnasse a woman he would be charmed to the point of agreeing to marriage that alone. 

“You do realize I could slip away now.” He sounds breathless enough to surprise himself. 

Combeferre simply wrapped an arm around Montparnasse and pulled him closer. “You won’t.”

He didn’t. 

He didn’t quite understand why he didn’t just sneak away, go back to the way things were. It would be simpler. 

But he didn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been like half a decade since I wrote anything near smut and here I am with a rarepair and it's written so fluffy that it reads more like 'making love'. Happy (late) Holidays.


End file.
